In Loving Memory

Born September 23, 1937, in Corpus Christi, Texas, Irma Yvonne Chapa Olivarez was the daughter of Ernesto and Dolores Chapa, and sister to Ernesto Jr., Sylvia, and Sandra. We called her Mom, MomEma, MaEma, Buela, Wella. Each name belonged to a different generation, each one an attempt to keep up with her as she moved through the family.

At a young age, Irma survived scarlet fever. While she recovered, she went to live with her grandparents in a house she would remember as lively and full of cousins. Those cousins remained important throughout her life. She often spoke fondly of birthday parties together, caldo Sundays, and time spent with her comadres.

Irma was a proud Miller Buc. “Once a Buc, Always a Buc.” Soon after graduating, she married and raised two daughters, Melody and Rhonda, building a life around family and work.

She began working alongside her mother-in-law, Sophie Lazarine Olivarez, and the tamaleras at the Tamale Shack, the place our family simply called “The Stand.” Her children and grandchildren moved in and out of the restaurant, using it as their own playground, while extended family never missed a moment to visit while in town. There was always someone working, eating, talking, or waiting for a plate. The restaurant was not simply where she worked. It was where our family became a family.

Later, Irma opened and ran her own restaurant, the Tamale Hut. She renovated an old Dairy Queen into a sit-down Mexican restaurant, keeping the familiar feel of a diner and the convenience of a drive-thru.

There was always something being made and something needing to be done. Irma was good at this kind of work. She knew what came next without having to be told. She had an exacting eye and a strong sense of how things could be done. She wrapped each dozen tamales with the same sequence of folds, one side and then the other.

We learned her recipes by watching her hands. A little of this, enough of that. There was rarely a measurement to write down or a recipe to follow. We remember her recipes now through the videos we made of her cooking.

Much of what she gave us came through her hands.

And there was always another Irma. She loved a shopping trip and could not pass up a pair of jeweled sandals or a striking animal print.

There are photographs of Irma that still surprise us. In one, she is dancing in a living room with Alberto in white Bermuda shorts and a blue marbled blouse, her hair rising into a beehive. She is caught somewhere between the music and the moment, entirely herself. We love knowing that this woman existed, too.

Irma never missed a chance to beat you at cards. She loved golf, with style, of course. When she bowled, even the ball had her name engraved on it, with a glove to match. She was bright, witty, and unbelievably funny. She loved action movies with fast cars, cliff jumping, and justice in the end. She loved a handful of pastel Jordan almonds, eaten slowly or all at once.

She could be exacting. She could be difficult. She could also make you laugh until you could no longer remember what you had been arguing about.

In her later years, she showed us another part of herself in the pleasure she took in watching her great-grandchildren grow up. She loved having a front-row seat to their lives. The photographs of Irma with Cadence and Anthony hold that joy for us now.

Since her passing, we continue to learn more about Irma, because a life is always larger than the version a family inherits. Stories resurface in the people who loved her. Photographs appear in unlikely drawers and envelopes. Sometimes we recognize one of her habits in ourselves without knowing where, or when, we picked it up.

Irma is survived by her sister, Sylvia Thornburg; her two daughters, Imelda “Melody” Valdez and Rhonda Ann (Roland) Gohlke; and her grandchildren, Conrad Anthony (Jennifer) De La Paz and Tamara (Malte) Valdez Stiehl; and her great-grandchildren, Cadence and Anthony De La Paz.

We remember the woman who worked, provided, insisted, noticed, laughed, played cards, dressed up, and taught us to give better than we got.

Irma Yvonne Chapa Olivarez.

Mom, MomEma, MaEma, Buela, Wella.

We have all these names for her now.

Service Information

Services will take place at St. Joseph's Catholic Church on Friday, September 18th. The Holy Rosary will be recited at at 12:30pm and the Mass will follow at 1pm. The Burial will be at Rose Hill Memorial Park at 2:30pm.